


white and navy

by captainsourwolf



Series: Rhink Ficlets [2]
Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Coming Untouched, Filth, M/M, This is trash, baseball jersey sex, never heard of it, plot???, rhink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-24
Updated: 2019-09-24
Packaged: 2020-10-27 04:38:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20754470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsourwolf/pseuds/captainsourwolf
Summary: Rhett wasn’t prepared for seeing Link in a baseball jersey.





	white and navy

**Author's Note:**

> thanks again em, for the smut writing marathon ;)
> 
> all i wanted was rhett nailing link in nothing but that jersey. 
> 
> they're not drunk but pleasantly buzzed. so i just added to this collection to keep it organized since they have been drinking.

Rhett wasn’t prepared for seeing Link in a baseball jersey. He knew they were receiving custom created jerseys with the Bleak Creek release date on them, knew their names would be printed in big bold letters, but he didn’t know how it would make him feel seeing his best friend in that white and navy material. There’s a stirring in his chest and pants, an intense feeling that can only be quelled in one way when Link comes out of the locker room that afternoon. 

They’ve already thrown the first pitch and put their two cents in at the booth. It was exhilarating, something he never thought he would get to do with his best friend. The atmosphere in the booth was lighthearted and fun and after, when they met up with their families, they went to a small celebration Stevie set up at the studio. 

Now Rhett is standing in a corner with a glass of whiskey in hand and staring Link down while he leans on the wall. Link is across the room chatting up Chase, fingers clutching his beer tightly, jersey unbuttoned, and eyes too bright in the studio lights. The evening has gone quickly, filled with laughter and congratulations from their guests, some of them joking about that impressive crossover pitch, “We didn’t know you had it in you!”, and drinks disappearing faster than they can be replenished. 

Rhett is pleasantly buzzed after two glasses of whiskey and a couple of beers. It makes his skin feel tight and tingly and itchy under his jersey. He pops the top button to try and relieve some of the tightness he’s feeling, and immediately Link catches his eyes. Rhett freezes for a moment. Then he unbuttons one more and Link’s eyes widen, mouth popping open slightly then sinking his teeth into his bottom lip.

Well.

Rhett can work with this.

One quick swallow and the rest of his drink is gone. It burns all the way down and invigorates him, spurs on the arousal churning in his gut. His jeans are too tight for this. Shaking his head, Rhett steels himself and pushes away from the wall. He sets the empty glass onto the table beside him, then stalks his way through the crowded room to Link, carefully avoiding the other people. 

Link waves Chase away not so subtly. Chase rolls his eyes and leaves. Rhett doesn’t bother watching him go; he’s only focused on Link. Link who’s smirking now, bottom lip red from biting it, eyes staring intensely at Rhett. 

“Hey, man,” Link says coolly. Rhett notices his fingers gripping tightly around the neck of the beer bottle, flexing and releasing, skin going white around his knuckles. It’s a tell tale sign that he’s trying to calm his shaky nerves. 

“Hey,” Rhett says back just as smooth and cool. He pries the bottle out of Link’s tight grip and sets it down. Almost immediately Link’s hands start shaking so Rhett reaches out, looks around quickly, and takes them in his, fingertips resting lightly on his wrists. It sends a thrill through him doing it so openly where anyone could see. 

Link blinks in surprise at the move, eyes widening slightly, pupils dilating. Rhett wants to kiss him so bad right now, just surge down and press his lips against Link’s, work him open until he’s panting against Rhett’s mouth. But he doesn’t. He keeps it under control for the moment and presses his thumb against the tendon in Link’s wrist, feels the pulse jump rapidly. 

Gasping, Link shuts his eyes. Rhett wonders if anybody has noticed. A small part of him wouldn’t mind if people were looking. He knows exactly what they would see: Rhett and Link being Rhett and Link, always close, always having their own conversation, always forgetting what personal space means. There would be nothing out of the ordinary, except for the blatant arousal on Link’s face. 

“Come with me,” Rhett leans over and whispers in Link’s ear. Link nods his head and Rhett lets go of his hands so they can leave the room normally. Link walks close by Rhett’s side, their hands bumping and shoulders brushing. Every touch sets his skin on fire. 

Once they are out of the crowded room, Rhett picks up pace to the office. He hastily grabs Link’s wrist and drags him along fast; Link stumbles along laughing. The office door finally, _finally_, comes into view and Rhett speeds along, practically running with Link by his side. 

“Slow down, Rhett! I can’t keep up,” Link says breathlessly. Rhett doesn’t stop until they reach the door where he pushes it open, and slams it shut behind them, flicking the lock quickly. There’s only a couple of lamps on, casting the room in shadows with just enough light to see each other. 

Rhett takes a deep breath and turns to Link, slowly dragging his eyes up and down Link’s body, shivering at the heated gaze staring right back. Link looks good standing there with the jersey unbuttoned, gray tee damp with sweat, jeans tight and straining. It does things to Rhett’s insides and it definitely does things to his cock. He’s half-hard already just looking at Link.

Link is already toeing his shoes and socks off and kicking them across the room in a hurry. Rhett does the same and at the same time begins to unbutton his jersey, nearly ripping a couple of buttons off in his haste to rid himself of it. 

“Look so good in that jersey,” Rhett whispers. He rips his off his shoulders and shakes it down his arms, the fabric pooling on the floor at his feet. He reaches for Link with grabby hands until he can get the jersey in his grip, bunch it up enough to yank Link forwards and into his space. Link whimpers. “Gonna fuck you in it, and only it.” His words have Link squeezing his eyes shut and his hips bucking forward, pressing close to Rhett’s. 

Link grabs the jersey and takes it off, handing it to Rhett to hold, but Rhett drops it so he can help Link out of his other clothes. The gray tee comes first, a small tear ending up on the collar when Link yanks too hard over his head. It lands somewhere behind him while Rhett makes quick work of the tight jeans. The button pops easily with the strain on them and the zipper gets stuck for a second, but finally Rhett gets the bottoms undone and down Link’s hips. 

Rhett licks his lips at the sight of Link half naked in the shadows. His chest is heaving and sweat is already sliding down his neck and slowly across his collarbone. His jeans are loose around his hips, splayed open temptingly, cock impossibly hard and straining against the briefs covering him. Rhett inhales a sharp breath and reaches down to press the heel of his hand against his own crotch.

Link bends to grab the jersey and when he stands Rhett sees it isn’t Link’s, but his that the other is holding. _His_ name in big bold letters across the back, _his_ number in red, _his_ white and navy. Rhett moans wantonly at the implications the pose holds. Link smirks as if reading Rhett’s mind and slips the jersey over his arms slowly. It’s a little big on him in the arms and too long past his waist, but to Rhett it fits just right. 

“Shit, Link,” Rhett whines, hands reaching out again. He knew he wanted Link on all fours in his own jersey, but in Rhett’s? The thought sends a thrill straight through his nerves and to his cock still trapped in his jeans. He palms himself again, afraid that the combination of alcohol and arousal in his system will have him busting like a teenager in his pants.

Link makes quick work of his pants and underwear. He gets them past his hips, down his thighs, and pooling onto the floor so he can step out of them. Rhett watches, transfixed at the sight of more skin being revealed, teeth trapping his bottom lip so hard he tastes copper. He licks the small drop of blood away and sees Link’s eyes dart to his tongue. 

Blushing, Link shifts from foot to foot in front of Rhett. Rhett takes him in, drinks in the sight of him like a man starved, tries to memorize what Link looks like standing there in nothing but Rhett’s jersey, cock hard and heavy between his legs, skin flushed prettily under Rhett’s gaze. It is a sight he never wants to forget. 

“Fuck you look so good,” Rhett moans and surges forward, grabbing Link by the cheeks and kissing him forcefully. Their teeth clash but Rhett doesn’t care. Link could split him open and make him bleed for all he cares so long as he gets to kiss the other man just like this. 

Rhett bites at his lips, teases until Link is moaning underneath him, arms coming up to grip in Rhett’s hair. Rhett huffs out a breath at the feeling of Link’s long fingers tangling in his curls and pulling him closer. He pulls away enough to speak, their lips brushing with every word, “You gonna fuck me now or what?” 

“God that filthy mouth,” Rhett laughs and kisses him again. He ends it too soon, drawing a whine from Link who chases his mouth with his own. “Get on your knees.” Hands landing on Rhett’s waist, Link sinks to his knees. He taps his fingers into Rhett’s overheated skin before teasingly dancing all the way to the button in front of him. It pops open easily and the zipper comes down just as easy, nearly bursting with the effort of trapping his erection. “Hurry up,” Rhett says sharply. 

Finally Link jerks Rhett’s pants and underwear down to his ankles. His cock springs free and the cool air hitting his overheated skin feels good. He moans loudly, head tilting back to the ceiling, hands finding purchase on Link’s head as he kicks his clothes away across the floor. 

There’s a heated moment while Rhett holds Link by the hair with one hand, Link smirking up at him, pupils blown wide until there’s barely a ring of blue. He looks obscene on his knees with nothing but Rhett’s jersey on, buttons undone, and fabric almost too big around his torso, cock smearing wet on his belly. The sight will be burned into Rhett’s memory forever. Link licks his lips and nudges his head against Rhett’s hand.

It’s enough for Rhett to grip tight and drag him forward. Link’s mouth is hot around his dick and wet as it engulfs him. It takes everything in Rhett not to drive his hips forward and into Link’s mouth faster, but he exhibits enough control so Link can get one hand around him and the other clutching the back of his thigh. 

Link goes slow at first, working his tongue around Rhett like an expert as he gets him good and wet; it’s not long before there’s spit dribbling down Rhett’s balls and in the crease where ass meets thigh. Link moans around him, filthy, and Rhett could cum like this. He’s hot all over at the touch of Link’s tongue licking up the underside, he’s weak when those lips wrap around the head and suck, he could _die_ when he sees a glob of spit and precum rolling down to meet Link’s hand. 

“That’s enough,” Rhett gasps out and yanks Link’s head back roughly. Mouth and chin shiny, Link just grins up at him. “Get up, _get up_, now.” Rhett doesn’t give him the chance before he’s grabbing Link by the collar of the jersey and hauling him up on shaky legs. Rhett kisses him desperately, tastes himself on Link’s lips and tongue. 

Rhett uses his entire body to maneuver Link to the couch; he gets him there in only a few seconds. Link stumbles the whole way, laughing delightedly at how insistent Rhett is. When Rhett gets him there he backs Link up to the very edge of the cushions and holds him by the collar of the jersey. Link’s breathing is ragged and Rhett can feel wet smearing on his thigh where their bodies meet. Rhett holds him close and smashes their lips together in a quick but rough kiss. 

“What’re you waiting for big guy?” Link heaves out, rush of breath hot on Rhett’s face. He smiles wickedly and rises up on his toes to kiss Rhett, slow and teasing and full of wicked promises. 

Rhett growls and spins Link around. He takes a moment to hold Link to him, back to chest, arm completely enveloping him shoulder to shoulder, admire the way the jersey feels against his naked front, free hand roaming. He teases with gentle fingers on one of Link’s nipples, thumbing it only briefly, until Link is gasping out a groan. Link’s entire body shudders against Rhett’s. 

“_Rhett_, do something,” Link whimpers. All cocky confidence from moments before is gone, leaving Link a shuddering mess in his arms. Rhett kisses the curve of his right ear, runs his tongue along the soft skin while his hand travels down, down, down, stopping just shy of where he wants to go. “Fuck you,” Link pants and rears back to grind his ass into Rhett’s dick. 

Rhett staggers and gasps in rapid breaths. If he doesn’t move this along soon he’s going to combust before he gets to see how prettily Link cums in his jersey. He cants his hips forward and lets go of Link’s body so he can lean on the couch. Link gets both knees on the leather and glances at Rhett over his shoulder, eyes shining in the low light of the room. 

“How you want me?” Rhett swallows thickly at the question. He considers it for a moment while he slowly looks Link up and down. The jersey looks even better from the back, framing his ass just right and swaying every time Link breathes. 

Rhett finally reaches out and pushes Link so his hands are braced on the back of the couch, knees spread precariously on the edge of the cushions. “Right there,” Rhett says gruffly. His cock twitches in excitement, beads of pearly liquid coming out excessively now. He uses it to spread around, get himself slick. 

Link is watching him over his shoulder. He’s breathing raggedly while he watches, and Rhett can tell he wants to touch himself. But the other man restrains himself and Rhett grins. Link moans quietly and drops his head between his arms. 

Rhett quickly goes to grab his wallet where a small packet of lube hides. He takes it out, tosses the wallet, and rejoins Link at the couch. Link shifts and the leather creaks under his weight. His toes start wiggling and Rhett can’t imagine how uncomfortable the position must be. But he doesn’t care right now.

“Rhett, come on, please,” Link pleads. Rhett trails his fingers down Link’s back, the jersey soft under his fingertips, his name smooth and perfect across Link’s shoulder blades. He drags a thumb across Link’s ass, teases, before pulling his hand away to open the foil packet. 

“D’you know what you look like, Link? Naked except for my jersey?” Rhett rips the packet open with his teeth and squeezes some of the lube onto his index finger. He leans over Link and whispers in his ear, “_My_ name across your back?” Link hums low in his throat and squeezes the back of the couch so hard his hands turn white. 

Rhett drags his finger down, down, down until he can press the pad of his finger against Link’s hole. Link jerks his hips forward. Rhett steadies him around the waist and kisses the back of his neck gently. He swirls the lube around the taut skin for a moment, getting it slick, then pushes it in to the first knuckle. Link swears loudly. He drops his head back on Rhett’s shoulder but doesn’t let go of the couch.

Rhett’s arm around Link’s middle tightens as he holds onto Link to keep him from falling. He presses kisses into Link’s hair, down the back of his neck, over the jersey across his broad shoulders. Link full body shudders and moans. 

“Gimme more, come on,” Link begs and bares his pelvis down, trying to take in more of Rhett’s finger. Rhett pushes his finger in the rest of the way and works in the second one, stretching Link until he’s groaning and sighing in pleasure. Rhett nudges his cock against Link’s ass causing Link to rock forward and back down onto his hand. 

Rhett works him open some more, keeps holding him up while he does so. He’s afraid if he lets go Link will fall boneless to the couch. The office is filled with Link’s breathy moans. 

Rhett can’t take it anymore. He stretches his fingers one more time before removing them. There’s still enough lube in the packet so he dribbles the rest of it into his hand and works himself over, sighing at the satisfaction. He’s more than ready, has been for the last few minutes, cock impossibly hard in his hand. 

“I’m gonna let go,” Rhett warns and drops his arm from around Link’s waist. Link staggers only slightly and catches his balance on his knees. Rhett can see sweat beading at Link’s hairline and on his arms, all over his thighs and calves. 

Using his hands, Rhett palms Link’s ass, thumbs working circles into the muscles as he travels his way down. He has to stop and breathe through his nose when Link’s hole is exposed, wet with lube. Rhett holds him open with one hand and the other he pumps himself with, once then twice, before lining up. Sighing, Rhett pushes just the head in, Link hissing and digging nails into the leather couch. He adjusts on his feet and brings a hand up to Link’s waist to steady him. 

“You alright?” he whispers. Link lets out a strangled yes and rolls his hips down, taking in more of Rhett’s cock and squeezing around him. Rhett moans at the feel of Link’s ass constricting around him, perfect heat and slickness urging him in farther. 

“Don’t treat me like ‘m fragile, Rhett, gosh,” Link says harshly. With that he lets go of the couch with one hand and reaches around, grabs Rhett by the meatiest part of his ass, and bares himself down onto Rhett’s cock all the way. 

Rhett feels like the air has been punched out of him. He nearly loses his footing with the force of it, but regains his balance and grasps at Link’s hips to steel himself. He waits a beat so Link can adjust; Rhett is not small by any means and they both know it. 

“Shit, Link,” Rhett rasps out. Link nods once over his shoulder, digs his fingernails into the couch, and Rhett inches his cock out slowly, hands tightening around Link’s hip bones, then drives himself back in. The sound ripped from Link’s throat is a cross between a sob and a moan. 

Rhett fucks into him fast and hard, his name on the jersey before him keeping his focus. Link is panting fast and breathy beneath him, _looks so good_ in his jersey, name in big bold letters screaming who Link belongs to. His toes curl on the floor and a thrill of pleasure burns through his entire body, threatens to wreck him if he isn’t careful. 

“Like seeing your name on my back while you fuck me?” Link moans around the words, heavy on his tongue, and Rhett wants to shut him up, wants to fuck him until he can’t breathe long enough to talk. 

Rhett hauls him up, back to chest again, laughing in delight when Link scrambles to get his hands somewhere. They land in Rhett’s hair, tangling in the sweaty mess of curls, tugging until Rhett is moaning uninhibited. 

“Almost as good as actually fucking you,” Rhett says, words rough in his throat. He’s breathing too hard, lungs burning in his chest as he fucks his best friend deep and too good. He can feel his release searing through him, tightening his balls, building and building at the base of his spine. 

He wants to see it when he cums inside of Link, his name emblazoned across Link’s strong back, Link moaning it out loud with his filthy mouth. Sliding a hand up Link’s chest and over his throat, Rhett laughs again, loud and giddy and so turned on he’s sure he’s going to implode before he gets to see it. 

Link tugs harder on Rhett’s hair then lets go. Rhett guides him down onto the couch, manhandles Link until he can hold onto the arm of the couch, ass in the air and jersey stretched tight against his sweaty back. _Perfect_, Rhett thinks. He gets behind Link with his thighs cradling the other man’s pelvis and pushes back in, too rough and too much, but Link loves it, moans guttural and deep into the arm of the couch. 

“Gosh you love it, Link, you love it so much,” Rhett whimpers. His grip on Link’s hip bones tightens; he holds Link against him and thrusts deep. When he looks across Link’s back his name is stretched, the letters bunching, sweat soaking through. It spurs him on to move faster and hold Link tighter. 

Link is biting the arm the arm of the couch now as he moans wanton and loud into the office. He rolls his hips back to meet Rhett thrust for thrust, Rhett’s hips roughly slapping into Link’s ass. 

“I’m---’m close, Rhett. Come on,” Link huffs out. Rhett adjusts his angle so he can hit that bundle of nerves, and knows he’s hit it when Link keens high in his throat and jerks his hips, hard. “Yeah, _yeah_, Rhett, come on.” 

Rhett is high with the arousal pumping through his veins. He can’t believe how good it feels, how much he loves seeing his name while he fucks his best friend on their shared couch. Link tries to sit back some but Rhett doesn’t let him; he pushes a hand into Link’s hair, where it’s almost too short to grasp, and holds him against the couch so he can see when it happens. 

That building in the base of his spine begins to spread everywhere. It’s so good it makes his toes curl and his fingers dig into flesh hard enough to bruise later. He twists his hips one more time, slides the hand in Link’s hair down the nape of his neck, and bunches up the letters in his own hand. He cums hard and fast, holding Link down as he continues to thrust his hips in a stuttering rhythm, spilling into him hot and thick.

Link isn’t far behind. His hips jerk forward, entire body shuddering, moaning Rhett’s name as loud as possible as he cums all over the leather couch and his torso, untouched, hole spasming around Rhett’s spent cock. Rhett whines and whimpers through the sensation of _too much_, until Link comes down from his release. 

Both of them breathing hard and fast, Rhett slips his cock out, satisfied at the hiss it elicits from Link. He helps Link turn around and slide down the sticky cushions so he’s on his back, wrecked and sated. Rhett pitches forward for a kiss; it’s tender and gentle compared to the rest of the night. Link wiggles his body against the couch under Rhett and Rhett sits back, looks him up and down thoroughly. The jersey splayed open, framing his sweaty and cum streaked torso, entire body on display for Rhett only; it’s enough to make him moan quietly and kiss Link again and again until he’s breathless. 

Link sighs against his mouth. Rhett presses one more kiss, lingering, to his lips and rolls off of him. Link isn’t far behind, staggering on shaky legs as Rhett goes to find the wipes they keep under a desk. When he turns around Link has removed the jersey and his wiping his torso down with it, smirking at Rhett the whole time. 

Rhett jerks him into a rough kiss that leaves Link unable to breathe. He sighs heavily and tosses the jersey towards the hamper under the loft stairs then turns to gather Link up into a hug. 

“Remind me to send a thank you note to the Dodgers,” Rhett murmurs into Link’s ear.

Link dissolves into laughter. Rhett can’t help but beam in satisfaction.


End file.
